


for this to be a real college campus in spring, there should be some mention of frisbees

by ssunshine



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 04:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssunshine/pseuds/ssunshine
Summary: The next volume in his most recently favorited series comes out in three weeks. He has an obscenely large creampuff still left in his fridge courtesy of bumping into Damen. Speaking of, he has a second date with Damen. He still hasn't kissed Damen; he kind of wants to, wants Damen to kiss him.





	for this to be a real college campus in spring, there should be some mention of frisbees

**Author's Note:**

> this is an old fic but i still kind of like it; part of a larger story involving a ghost auguste but i feel like there's enough info in here to get the gist ! 
> 
> hope it's fun C:

Laurent regrets leaving the library almost the instant the door opens to the weight of his hand. Warden winter is nodding off today and spring has made its prisonbreak. Overhead, the sun beams down like a searchlight, skirting over burgeoning heatwaves and green beginnings of grass. Not to be outdone, the rest of campus has swarmed the yard looking for spring - and they've found it in the shadows of trees and in plain sunlight. 

Laurent doesn't like spring. He doesn't like summer either. Auguste says - used to say - he must have gotten all of their mother's Vaskian genes with how he can't stand the heat. Still, he doesn't have many options to escape it now; calling Jord will still leave him in the sun for a good fifteen minutes, and public buses hold no appeal. Laurent simply adjusts the straps of his backpack and picks his way down the library stairs, dodging sprawled bodies and careless limbs. 

A cool breeze toys with the edge of his fringe, tossing blond strands into his vision that stick like honey. Still, Laurent can't deny that the gust of it is welcome. 

He isn't... uncomfortable. He keeps to his usual pace, quick but not excessively so, shoulders back, head high, and the heat keeps a respectful distance. When he hears what could be his name, he simply ignores it. He thinks to check his phone but he can already imagine the sorts of texts he has received from an anxious brother: drink lots of water, roll up your sleeves, stay out of the sun, you always used to get nauseated if you stayed in the sun for more than an hour. Auguste is dead, though. What does he know? 

Well, he knows who killed him, Laurent thinks, a bit wryly. At the end of the summer it will be ten years since his uncle had Auguste murdered. At the end of the summer it will be eight years since his uncle started trying to get rid of him, too. There is - sometimes- almost something alluring in letting him win. Right now, though, practically swaddled in sunlight, Laurent is very grateful that he is still alive. 

For plenty of reasons, of course. He can still cause problems for his uncle. Auguste informed him of a documentary on the old Artesian empire this afternoon. The next volume in his most recently favorited series comes out in three weeks. He has an obscenely large creampuff still left in his fridge courtesy of bumping into Damen. Speaking of, he has a second date with Damen. He still hasn't kissed Damen; he kind of wants to, wants Damen to kiss him. 

Damen is probably enjoying this weather. Laurent dodges a particularly large group of students, remembers Damen talking about summers in Akielos, white on blue on water. Still, no familiar curly head or bulging biceps register amongst the little pockets of students making the most of the warm sun. Laurent would almost be surprised if he cared enough. He isn't looking for Damen. Damen probably has class, or is off with his gang of jocks in a bar or two hours away by the beach - he wasn't at the library, but Laurent hadn't quite looked for him there either. 

Eventually, Laurent's legs carry him off campus. With sunlight and budding tree limbs dappling the sidewalk ahead of him, Laurent decides the weather isn't so bad. The temperature floats around a reasonable range when he checks his phone, a text from auguste saying that he is out of orange juice appearing at the top of the screen. Some teenage impulse in his chest twitches his fingers, but he stamps it down harshly before he can tap Damen's message thread. It would be pointless anyway. Damen wouldn't answer if he is in class or off with his friends. Damen is also twenty-four going on twenty-five and Laurent is twenty-two; flirting and texting like lovestruck middle schoolers doesn't seem appropriate. 

He still isn't even sure why Damen likes him. The how of it is an entire other mystery. 

But he does. so they have a second date, next week now, and Laurent decides he will kiss Damen this time. Probably. Three weeks ago, he left Damen at the door to his apartment building with a remarkably inept touch to his bicep despite the clear look in Damen's eyes. Laurent can't be said to be someone who thinks well when flustered. 

But now. But now, Laurent thinks he could do it. He thought about it, kissing Damen. Possibly an embarrassing amount. But he remembers the look in Damen's eyes and assures himself that Damen must have thought of it even more than he had, which. He doesn't quite know what to make of that. 

The city rears its head quickly enough. Laurent, who frequently walks with his mind occupied and distracted, walks mostly on muscle memory. Crossing streets, he pauses his thoughts, and picks them back up once the bottom of his heel finds the sidewalk again. He thinks of Damen mostly - at least right now. Usually he thinks of much more practical concerns, like not dying. It must be the weather. He tries to imagine telling Damen about Auguste, who Damen has seen him text and seen respond, who exists as both a jar full of ashes and a phone number, who Damen thinks is completely alive. Because this isn't real, Laurent makes him react favorably; maybe Damen can see Auguste too, and someday Laurent tells him about the target on his temple. Damen would probably say, 

“Laurent!" 

Laurent frowns, then, thoughtfully, shrugs. Damen might say simply say his name. Sometimes he is not exactly verbose. 

“Laurent, wait up!" 

That is Damen. Real Damen. Damen's voice. Laurent stops, turns around, and immediately coughs, hoping the heat is enough to explain away the color in his cheeks. 

Grinning warmly, Damen jogs the last few yards to him and stops with a last little bouncing step. Red earbuds dangle from their loops over his ears. His eyes are bright and brown, his dark curly hair held back with a zigzag patterned headband, and his chest bare, brown, and sweaty. The defined, muscular bulk of him glistens, twin nipple piercings catching sunlight, and Laurent manages to fix him with a glare because he isn't quite sure what to do with his face. Damen barely seems to notice the fact that his shorts are very, very short. His thighs are massive. 

“Hi," says Damen, slightly breathless. 

Laurent, feeling just as winded, nods. 

“I saw you a couple streets back - you didn't hear me. I kind of ditched my running buddy," Damen says, still grinning. His lips are full. 

“You stalked me," Laurent says. 

“Not on purpose." 

“You should find your friend." 

Damen tucks a wind-loose lock of hair behind Laurent's ear, oblivious to Laurent's sudden breathing distress. “I found you, though," he says, brown eyes warm. 

“Does that work on all the girls?" Laurent asks tonelessly. 

“Never tried with that one,” Damen says, almost playful, "but I was wondering if I could buy you ice cream later. I know you have a sweet tooth. Remember when you snuck me a fancy Veretian chocolate in the library when I had a bad day?" 

“I don't recall," Laurent says, but his lips quirk a little, unbidden. 

Damen responds in kind, like a taller, more muscular mirror. He looks more suited for the cover of a men's health magazine, or a firemen pinup calendar. He pulls what Laurent assumes to be his shirt free from the waistband of his small shorts and wipes off his forehead. Laurent, stupidly, wants to tell him to put his shirt back on. 

“So? What'd you say? Not a date, just- I thought you'd like some ice cream," Damen persists. 

“Don't you have a run to finish?" Laurent asks. 

“I can catch up to Pallas no problem. I got strong legs," says Damen, patting his thighs. 

Laurent resolutely avoids looking. He rolls his shoulders under the backpack straps and tries not to feel. “Text me later and perhaps I’ll have an answer for you." 

//

damen: i just finished 10 miles w/ pallas, nik's still gettin over a sprained ankle  
damen: i showered tho so you don't have to worry abt me sweating everywhere  
damen: i need a filter  
damen: :|  
damen: ?  
damen: doesn't have to b a date, i just thought we could hang  
damen: i also know a place that does fried ice cream  
damen: or if you don't like ice cream we could get smoothies  
damen: can u be extra Laurent nd tell me to stop spam texting you but in like a really cool way  
laurent: I don't quip on command.  
damen: :O  
laurent: Don't you have class.  
damen: nope i'm done today! :D  
laurent: You want to go on a date.  
damen: it doesn't have to be one!! i'm really 100% cool waiting for that second date, there's no rush or obligation at All, we also never need to go on that second date if you don't want even if i'd be sad  
damen: i just like talking to you C:  
damen: so what du say?  
laurent: What if I wanted it to be a date?  
damen: (typing)  
damen: (typing)  
damen: (typing)  
damen: (typing)  
damen: (typing)  
damen: (typing)  
laurent: Did I break you.  
damen: kind of ;;  
laurent: I suppose that means the date is off.  
damen: LAUrent  
laurent: I'm only teasing. I'll meet you on Main.  
damen: i'll b right there!!!!! :DD

//

Damen's hand makes the already small spoon look comically tiny. He ordered one gigantic seventeen-dollar bowl between the two of them, picking such simple flavors that Laurent nearly felt bad asking for stracciatella and lime-basil of all things, which are not even complicated. Damen just edged around them, until he asked to try one and took a little scoop of one of laurent's flavors' gelato petals. Damen likes things like mango and passionfruit and vanilla, but he doesn't mix them, just enjoys them for their own tastes. Maybe that's who Damen is. He is attractive and confident in a wrought-iron chair with robins flitting about his head and he likes mango gelato and he wears things like soft grey and blue baseball tees and brown capris. 

Damen is... very attractive. He looks freshly shaved, which is ridiculous and maybe almost presumptuous if he did really shave right before a date. His lips are full and maybe Laurent can't stop looking at them. Only- Damen is also saying something. Fuck, Laurent thinks. 

Damen looks at him and Laurent can't help but picture Damen's characteristic puppy emoji question mark combo. Laurent coughs. 

“Sorry, I was- thinking," Laurent says lamely. “I may have lied to my brother so he wouldn't ask questions." 

“Is he..." Damen doesn't finish the sentence, but Laurent can fill in the gaps. 

“No, he's very supportive. I- He worries about me, and I don't want the third degree. Granted, my lie could have been more tactful." 

Damen visibly relaxes again, something playful in his dark eyes. He scoops up a mouthful of vanilla onto his spoon and says, “So you've got a noisy older brother. What did you tell him? Homework? Studying? Another shift at the library?" 

“I said I had a board meeting," Laurent says, feeling heat in his face before he can stop it. “I don't, of course." 

“Couldn't he just check that?" 

“He won't," says Laurent. “I have a backup if necessary anyhow." 

“So you sort of snuck out for a date," Damen says, grinning. 

“He's-" dead, Laurent's brain supplies, "-across an ocean, Damen."

“I know," Damen says, petulantly playful and sticking out his tongue, “Laurent." 

“At least you can say my name correctly." 

“You know I speak Veretian,” Damen reminds. He grins suddenly, leaning forward on the table on his forearms and Laurent has to force himself not to look at his arms or the way his sleeves strain around his biceps. “Remember when you edited a few of my Veretian papers? I could teach you Akielon.” 

“You just want to hear me make a fool of myself in your language," Laurent says, not quite accusing because he's sort of smiling. 

“That would be a bonus," Damen concedes. 

“What were you saying earlier?" 

“Oh," Damen says, looking almost flustered. “Well. I was wondering if you wanted to push back what would be our third date now since we have- this." 

Laurent takes a smudge of Damen's mango. “Do you want to?" he asks. 

“I wanted to take you out for over two years, Laurent," Damen says, painfully honest. 

“And?" 

“I don't want to but I’m all for it if that's what you want." 

“Then I suppose you're lucky I don't want to either." 

//

Ice cream doesn't take long. Damen asks if he can walk Laurent home, and asks on the way if he can buy Laurent something to eat later just because he wants to. It's like the creampuff from the last time he ran into Damen; Damen just offered. So now Laurent is standing in the lobby of his apartment building with Damen and a brown paper bag of sushi and orange chicken, and Damen is laughing at something he said. 

Maybe Damen can tell he has something planned, and that's why he hasn't left. Maybe Damen is just hopeful. Maybe Damen thinks he's going to invite him upstairs. 

Laurent, stupidly, leans down slightly to put the bag on the floor. Damen goes quiet, like he loses his voice in the space of a minute, and his eyebrows twitch reflexively upwards. 

“You dropped your food," Damen says. 

“You've very observant," Laurent says. 

Damen's next breath in, audible, sounds painful. Laurent can see his hand hesitate by his side before coming up to brush another free-falling lock of hair behind Laurent's ear. Laurent is beginning to suspect that is a move of his. 

“Laurent, I-“ Damen says, then stops. His hand is warm where it stays hovering near Laurent's cheek. He opens his mouth to continue but Laurent beats him to it:

“Just kiss me." 

Laurent has to stand up a little taller and Damen has to duck but Damen's hand cups his cheek and his lips are soft and warm. It's quick, simple, light, and Laurent laughs, breathless, when Damen nearly chases him when he pulls back, and then he isn't laughing because Damen kisses him again and it's more, and it's deeper, and it's probably going to get Laurent some looks from his neighbors later but Damen tastes like the last twinges of mango and passionfruit and vanilla and he isn't shy about it. And maybe Laurent thought about this before but not nearly enough because his heart still stammers in his chest and he feels like he is doing weird things with his face but Damen is kissing him and he doesn't really care. When it's over, when whatever rush suddenly slows and has them both drawing back and Damen straightening up with his full lips and Laurent's arms around his neck, Laurent decides this was a very good idea. Damen looks at him with dark eyes and smiles; Laurent tries not to blush and fails, his own eyes still half-fixated on Damen's mouth. 

“I-“ Laurent says. 

“Yeah," says Damen. His thumb strokes across Laurent's cheekbone. 

Laurent's eyes flutter closed again, and he has to pull in a few breaths through his mouth before his words come back. “You know what you're doing," he says, which sounds slightly better in his head. 

“Do I?” says Damen, sounding stupidly pleased. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone before." 

“That was your first kiss?" 

“First two, I believe," Laurent says, just to be contrary. 

Damen kisses him again, quick. “You're too much for me." 

//

damen: i'm never going to get you saying kiss me out of my head  
laurent: If you play your cards right next week, I'll say it again.  
damen: LAURENT  
laurent: C:  
damen: i'm actually crying

**Author's Note:**

> i'm r-red & laurentdefer on tumblr if u want to say hi !


End file.
